


They Work Well Together

by covacola



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Other, i said i'd write smth better and i mean, the bar wasn't very high lmao, what even is consistent pacing like that just sounds unreasonable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 06:02:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18190712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/covacola/pseuds/covacola
Summary: Elliott was no stranger to his tastes or preferences. He was no stranger to one night stands and short lived affairs. He was no stranger to the highs and lows of not really caring who you were bedding, so long as it was your name they babbled or screamed. Sometimes, he didn’t even worry about that much.Mirage and Bloodhound have sex,,,, that's,,, itenjoypreviously titled "I Said I'd Write Something Better So, Uh, Here You Go, I Guess"





	They Work Well Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PumpkinSpite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinSpite/gifts).



> heated pacing is not one of my strong suits so uh forewarned there will be quite a few breaks.

Elliott was no stranger to his tastes or preferences. He was no stranger to one night stands and short lived affairs. He was no stranger to the highs and lows of not really caring who you were bedding, so long as it was your name they babbled or screamed. Sometimes, he didn’t even worry about that much.

It’d been an idle curiosity at first. The best ones usually were. He’d liked the way they moved, the sound of their voice as it crackled through the mouthpiece of their suit. He’d even liked the way they’d grabbed him, that one time in the ring. He wouldn’t say it was common or uncommon, thinking of some of his fellow Legends when he couldn’t find, or was too impatient for a partner of his own. But he was pretty certain he’d jerked off to Bloodhound at least once.

There might have been a few shots of courage to help things along, but they were both far from inebriated enough to make excuses. And he was glad for it. Maybe a bit more laxness than they might have had otherwise-- just for this first time-- but the intensity in those eyes. No, it was real enough, not sparked by the heat of a few good drinks. That look, the feeling of being looked at with eyes like those, the attention-- of course it was the attention-- that was what he loved.

He'd messed around as long as he could keep them. It'd mostly been flirty, but even with the medical mask and thick glasses, he'd been able to almost see their claws sinking in. Elliott had always been pretty good at getting under people's skin. Had to, if you wanted to be remembered. But he also knew how to poke and prod, to push and pull, to-- well, figure people out just enough, what made them tick. And use that lure to string them along until they realized how hooked he'd gotten em.

It was all the more fun with Bloodhound. He was used to the whole “predator” aspect in a flirty, kinky sort of way. But it was a whole other story when talking about an actual hunter who actually stalked and went after actual prey. And not just animal trapping. No one in their right minds would deny their reputation from their tracking in the Games. And having that kind of a mind to bounce off of, to pick apart, to sneak around and get into? Stars above, it was a feeling to make a blabbermouth bluster.

Honestly, until he'd met Bloodhound, he'd never really realized he could want that kind of stimulation. The banter was good, the sex, amazing. But what'd really caught him was someone doing for him what seldom others gave him any credit for. People challenge his ability, his wit-- pun intended-- his ego, and even his sex drive. But no one ever really looked at Elliott Witt and thought, “yeah! That guy looks like someone I could strategically spar with.” He looked the part of a go with the flow, roll with the punches kind of guy. And, the crime of flexibility was one thing he was definitely guilty of, sure-- again, all meanings intended. But knowing he was never even considered for any real problem-solving intelligence, honestly kind of stung. In a weird, not quite egotistically prideful way.

Ego was never really off the table for Elliott, even when he was a flushed, sloppy mess, arms over his head, legs spread, slipping on the soiled sheets. He’d already cum once by their hands and long make out session alone. A bit embarrassing, but not surprising. It was no secret now how long he’d been pining. Finding reciprocated feelings had been more of a shock than a turn on, though it’d been a very close thing. More than that, he was pleasantly surprised to find they were well adept at building him up before letting him come back down, over and over until the cycle had been laughably short and he’d finally gone over.

But of course, Hound had been far from done, and he wasn’t about to finish with just that, either. Even through labored breaths, he puffed out some taunt or another, smirking as if he wasn’t tantalizingly shifting his hips in slow, deliberate swings and twists, all but writhing under their gaze. He couldn’t really see their face, but the chuckle which slipped from their swollen lips sent a shiver up his spine. The feeling compounded as he felt a couple fingers follow its trail to his shoulder blades, slowing, creeping toward his neck. Instinctively, he lifted his head some, stretching, encouraging, willing their hand around him.

He was disappointed, but not at all surprised when the digits slipped back down. But he wasn’t kept long. A wet click told him what was coming, a wetter squeeze and release of air confirmed it. They rubbed their hands together, warming the lubricant. A breath of air was his only cue they’d moved from directly behind him. His eyes, having been screwed shut, flew open to stare directly into startlingly green eyes. “I want to see your face when I stretch you.” His face flushed deeper. Not that their face wasn’t heated, but the way they were able to keep their voice so modulated drove him crazy.

He opened his mouth to say something smart, but it was cut off as he felt the first prodding pressure. His air came out in a breathless sigh, notably higher than his usual range. He relaxed his hips, spread his legs a bit further. Curving his back just a bit. This rewarded him with another small chuckle. “Eager?” They asked. It was brief, but there was a definite note of how much, or rather, how little effort it took to slip their finger in to the second knuckle.

Avoiding the unsaid, half-formed question in favor of the one hanging in the air crackling between them, he laughed and almost surprised them as he craned his neck, taking them by the lips once more. By the time they broke for air, they had two fingers in completely, moving easily enough. Three fingers gave only a bit more resistance, but between the two of them, it wasn't long before their impatience was rewarded. Another squirt from the bottle, the sound of the lessened friction between their hands, it was oddly soothing in the heat of the moment.

Their hand was warm and still somewhat slick when they grabbed his hips. He wasn't at all shy, throwing himself back as roughly as he was pulled, squirming against them, grinding. This was a little game between them. Elliott often submitted, but he always put up a sort of fight. And if they weren't careful, he'd slip away and surprise them, as he'd just done now. With much more speed than he was ever given credit for, Elliott had turned, wrapping an arm around their shoulder, and pull them down on top of him. In the ensuing struggle, he managed to get his hips and legs fully turned, but they kept him from wrapping more than a limb at a time around them.

Finally, panting, they had him pinned; a hand holding his wrists, the other at one of his thighs, one of their legs keeping his other down. With a sigh, smiling wide, open mouthed as he panted, he relaxed his shoulders. He would struggle, in that way, no more. But, he wasn't done. “You're cute when you growl at me,” he said, voice dripping like the lube from his stretched hole. They didn't have an immediate response to that, curse him. Having exhausted his physical options, he'd moved so easily to a verbal assault. They felt themselves twitch.

“Ah, did I?” They hadn't even realized. His eyes had flicked down between the two of them, he hadn't missed it. He hummed in response, flirty and relishing this small victory. It drove them crazy. They were on him in a second, teeth and lips ravaging his neck, up and down, across his collar bone, leaving enough marks to know that, in the morning, it'd look less like they'd fucked, and more like Elliott had been hit in the shoulder by something. But they didn't care, and from the noises he was making-- ranging from short, hitched cries to long dragged out moans, to gruff, half breathless groans-- he didn't either.

They felt him move almost the moment the motion started and smiled into his skin. He'd tried yet again to hook his legs around them. They grabbed his hips, digging in hard, but didn't stop him from grinding against them. The heat roiling in their stomach, echoing and compounding with every movement he made against them, threatened to send them both over. But they also knew he was not keen on cumming again. That'd make two before they themselves had cum once, and his competitive pride couldn't handle that. So instead, they escalated things, taking him this time, finding it easy enough with his mouth wide open.

He realized what they were doing, what they we're counting on the moment their tongue met his. His eyes rolled back and he jerked, unable to control himself. He was losing it. Completely and totally losing it. Which is what they wanted. He indulged himself and held himself back just long enough to feel the slight hesitancy in them, taking the opportunity to fight back, kissing them with as much vigor for a few seconds. He felt their hands leave his hips, meaning to wrap around him when he finally shoved them hard, breaking off.

The two moved as one, knowing what each wanted, the same. Once again, Elliott flipped them over, but this time they went willingly. He threw his head back, both to give them a good show and to toss his bangs from his eyes, then took them into his hands. Their hands were again on his hips, but didn't linger long. They felt up along his sides, back down, up his abdomen. By then he'd positioned himself and teased their head into his hole. He was quite satisfied with the rush of air which escaped them.

He stroked them as he lowered himself. Slowly, slowly. As he did, they continued to feel him up, moving just enough to play with and pull on his nipples, then shifted, soothingly rubbing his back. They knew how to take care of him. He took a moment once they were all in, moving just a bit to see how much more of a reaction he could get out of them. To his delight, they let out another little growl then tapered off into a hissing moan. He didn't need any more encouragement. It didn't take him long to get comfortable, and even less time to get a rhythm.

He tossed his hair back once more, and in that moment, his body, arched as it was, gleaming with sweat, his smile, the whole moment yanked at them in a way they'd never expected. He was, there was no other word for it, beautiful. And in that moment, they knew not even this was enough. A plan began to form in their sex rattled head. They shifted just slightly, just enough to break his spell. But he wasn't done, and they were in no rush to cease his pleasure.

He was good. He knew he was good. He knew he looked good, knew he felt good, and the overall shine he held was intoxicating. They felt so good inside him, but as soon as they shifted, he felt it too. A deeper hunger. But the feeling of those eyes on him, watching him pleasure them both, it was too good to stop. And indeed he found himself going down so good he almost came again. His eyes slitted, he saw their hand move and, again with that speed, intercepted their ceasing movement, taking their hand in his own. They relaxed, trusting his wishes. Oh, that was too good too. He slowed, teasingly, achingly, he wanted nothing more than to fuck himself brainless on them. But if he was reading the room right, he'd still be getting his wish.

And so, he didn't struggle as he was flipped back over with them, his breath coming out a bit harder than he'd expected as his back hit the sheets. They didn't stop him from wrapping his legs around them. They looked into each other’s eyes for a period that seemed a second and a century. They knelt over him, gravitated closer, caressing his face. His hand found its way into their hair and before they knew it they were kissing again. Their hands moved back to adjust his hip, and he opened up welcomingly. He hummed something sweet as they slipped in, but the sound turned to a gasp as they entered him fully, more even than he'd taken from atop them.

At first they were slow, sweet as the sounds which left him. They rested their forehead on his, heat shifting back a moment to revel in the image of him. They moved, keeping their pace deliberately slow as he adjusted until finally, in a breath, “fuck me.” They didn't hesitate. They thrust much harder, the smack of skin on skin nearly drowning out another, more steamy gasp. His other hand snaked around their neck and he pulled their hair encouragingly. They held back until their mouth was next to his ear before letting loose another low growl, and they relished in the shiver and squeeze he gave. One hand steadied them, the other slipped down his stomach to pump him in time to their own thrusts.

They purposely kept a vigorous, but slightly shifting rhythm, keeping him on edge, but not quite able to cum. His movements, his love making became all the more frantic. Yanking and scratching and all but screaming for them. So entrapped was he, and yet they were as well. Another plea broke through the steady stream of profanities. “Kiss me.” Again, they need not have been told twice. Typical, now, though still surprising and very enjoyable, Elliott was not to be entirely out done. They found it difficult to balance their pacing and jerking with overpowering and out thinking his tongue.

They could have been mean, using their other hand, but they wanted that as little as he would have. In the end, there was only one thing for it. They did not give in, but accepted the inevitable and fought on until he all but entirely had the upper hand. By then, they'd also given up on their irregular pace, fucking him outright. No more games, no more circling around each other. It was about two minutes, to be generous, but when they came, they came almost at the same time. To their mild surprise, they came first. The moment they stiffened, he reacted, as if he'd been waiting. Knowing him, he probably had.

But it was all after the fact. They lay, barely able to keep themselves from simply collapsing on top of him. They need not have bothered. As soon as they allowed their shaking support arm to give, he pulled them close. He nuzzled them, cooing lovingly, adoring little nothing's. They nuzzled back as well, though not as energetically, if it could be called that. Without realizing it, he'd taken their hand once more, lacing their fingers with his as he'd done. They giggled a bit as he kissed their nose. Ignoring the mess, ignoring everything for awhile, they fell into easy sleep, foreheads resting together.

**Author's Note:**

> So to proofread I ran this through a text to speech reader (just TSS lmao) and let me tell you it was surreal. I highly recommend doing this. But also hearing a dead, mechanized voice say "fuck himself brainless" is probably one of the best metaphors for my sexuality.


End file.
